The kitchen was more than a cooking place; it was like a web of communication networks fostered by the maids working and the royal guard in the palace.
One would think that just a network of spies was inevitably useless, but that was not the case.
Rosa, Racheal's personal maid, made her way into the kitchen with heavy breaths. The kitchen was a colossal part of the palace, spacious enough to foster the flow of miscellaneous activities.
While some maids cooked, others served, and some did the cleaning.
Rosa made her way to a ceramic jug, setting out a small teacup on a saucer. She raised the jug and bent it downwards, but nothing came out. She creased her brows…
No green tea?" She asked, turning to look at her colleague.
"The traders have been treacherous in their delivery this month,
